The Pale Tale
I read the bill on the kitchen table, the ink smudged where the coffee ring had been. It was for the repair of the porch railing, a sum that made my stomach turn, but it was the first thing I signed that morning. My name, Elias Thorne, looked foreign on the paper. I am the sheriff of Oakhaven, a town of two thousand souls and one main drag, and I had just lost my nephew. The boy, Leo, was...
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